Standing in the Way of Control
by Twiist
Summary: Neither of them had imagined that having an affair and getting away with it would be the easiest of things, but should it really be this much work? . Dramione. Non Fluff.
1. Smoke Without Fire

**Disclaimer:** First and foremost, I do not own any of the characters, locations, objects etc. in the 'Potterverse', I'm simply making use of them. They are all J.K Rowling's creations; hers entirely, and I am not about to claim otherwise.  
I also do not claim any ownership of any of the lyrics that appear at the beginning of each chapter. All lyrics used are by the band 'Bright Eyes ' - chapter titlessong titles. Just no one try and sue me, k? ;) The only thing I lay claim to is some of the ideas in this fic and perhaps an OC or two.

**Warnings:** Violence. Substance Abuse. Bad language. Possible sexual scenes.

**A/N:** Ok, this is my first attempt at a Dramione, merely for trying on the ship for size as it were, as well as for the sake of a certain friend of mine who is equally inclined when it comes to pairings.. Not quite sure where it's headed, but I have a vague idea so bear with me ;) lol.  
Oh, and R&R S'il Vous Plaît. Even if you hate it, I'm somewhat lost in this ship, so I'm open to any critique you deem fit.

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Dedicated to my SCB, again.. ;)

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**- Chapter One -  
Smoke without Fire**

"_So in a drought learn to dance.  
And pray the dead will return.  
And dream of smoke without fire.  
Just come see me again when it burns."_

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Her heels clacked and pounded against the pavement as she ran, piercing the stillness of the night with every hastened step. Her hood had long blown off of her head due to the cold wind rushing past, and her hair flowed behind her in a bushy tangle of curls, the occasional knotted strand whipping at her face as she ran onwards toward her destination. Slowing her pace a little she brought her arm towards her face, shaking it free of the bulky fabric of her cloak and squinting down at her wristwatch to check the time, to her ultimate annoyance in doing so. Cursing under her breath as she realized she was running fairly late, she resumed the same pace as before as she hurried towards the clock tower that was peering over the building ahead. _'__Just a few more steps to go.. If he__'__s going to be a prick about it, you can always just leave..__'_ she thought to herself, nodding along with such musings as though reaffirming her own opinion with such a motion.

Before long, she was stood in front of the clock tower as had been requested, scanning her surroundings for any trace of him, but finding none wherever she looked. Sighing to herself frustratedly and rechecking her watch, she gave the face a stern seeming tap as if willing it to steal back the ten minutes she had been late by, frowning even more so as her rather ridiculous seeming want did not come to pass.

Smirking from the shadows of a nearby alley, he watched and waited in silence - studying her for a good few moments and smirking over the growing look of annoyance on her face as she continued to look around for him; a clear and pitiless satisfaction scoring smile lines across his face as he watched her foot nervously tapping against the pavement beneath it. Pulling a rather dulled metal flask from inside his pocket and raising it to his lips, he let the dark amber liquid trickle down his throat as he rummaged around in the opposite pocket for a case of cigarettes that he had buried somewhere within. Detaching himself from the flask for a moment and flipping the case silently open once it had been retrieved, he removed one of the thin white sticks with a shake of his head, all the while silently cursing Millicent Bulstrode for ever having introduced him to the blasted things that now seemed to have such a strong hold over him. His wand soon drawn forth from his inside pocket, he turned his back on her for a moment, tugging his cloak around both himself and the offending muggle object that was protruding from his lips, and lighting it with another shake of his head at such an action once more presenting itself to a _Malfoy_, of all people. Taking a long drag before turning his attention back to the rather impatient seeming witch stood just a few feet from him in the dim lamplight of the street, he blew the first drag of smoke up into the air above him, watching it collide with the darkness surrounding him and slowly sink into it before his eyes fell back towards her, watching with a smirk and waiting for a moment before deciding she had suffered enough.. For now.

Placing the cigarette between his lips once more and running a hand back through his hair, he took a few slow steps towards her, his feet seeming to float across the pavement without a sound - so much so that she had not even realised his presence until a cold set of fingers clamped themselves around one of her wrists. Her gasp in regard to such a sudden action was easily ignored, instead being replaced with the slight pressure of his chin resting on her shoulder as the other hand lifted the cigarette slowly from his mouth, letting a fine stream of smoke pre-empt each harshly whispered word to follow.

"_You're late, Granger.."_

Her head snapped round to face the source of the familiarly impatient voice, her eyes locking onto the thin trail of smoke that was winding its way up towards a nearby streetlamp and shortly following the quickly dispersing whiteness down towards its origin with a slight frown at the look on his face. He merely gazed blankly at her, one eyebrow raised as he blew a thick stream of warm smoke into her face and smirking to himself as she wafted it away; his expression remaining the same as it had before as she turned back to face him over her shoulder with a slight scowl not only at such an action, but at the close proximity that she seemingly could not let herself escape from. Briefly closing her eyes, she opened them narrowly a moment later, her voice dripping with as much sarcasm as she could muster in the way of a reply.

"_Well, aren't you just as charming as ever, Malfoy.. You know how much I hate those things.."_

He shook his head slowly and disapprovingly, as if words were not needed; his eyes staring down at her as coldly and brutally as their pale colouring seemed to dictate. Her frown deepened at such, but he didn't notice, simply shaking his head and taking another long drag from the cigarette before tossing it down at her feet; causing her to step backwards towards him with an objectionable frown at such a turn. Hermione's mouth opened as if to voice her irritation, but Draco simply shook his head in a bid for silence; one that was met with the closing of her lips and a bitter seeming scowl to steal her features as he continued to whisper darkly into her ear.

"_And you know how little I like to be made to wait.. As well as how little I generally care about what you approve and disapprove of, Granger.. You should be thankful that your kind managed to come up with at least one thing that I can actually enjoy.. If it weren't for these.." _

He smirked briefly, leaning away and moving round to the front her before stopping in her eye line and holding the cigarette up with a typically distant expression.

"_..I'd probably have just cursed you out of my life as soon as you waltzed back into it.. So you might do well to just shut up and quit while you're even marginally ahead.. Unless you want me to just fuck off and entertain myself, that is.."_

He smirked slightly, raising an eyebrow as though it would be a hard challenge for her to decline and soon finding himself rewarded with the sheer look of loathing in her eyes. Whether such an odious look was a depiction of her feelings towards him or herself, he didn't care.. In the months that such a situation had presented itself more frequently and fervently than he would ever had dared imagine in his most twisted nightmares, he had realised one thing and one thing alone. It all came down to power; to the general aspect of control. And ultimately to the fact that he was the one in charge of such an affliction for a change.

Having long tired of watching her mouth opening and closing like a fish gasping to be back in the water, he merely smirked at her lack of reply, cupping her chin in one hand and leaning in as though to kiss her. Watching her mouth pucker into a pout at such an action for a moment before her eyes closed to accept such a move; he remained a hair's breadth from her lips, grinning cruelly and shaking his head until her eyes opened enough to see him doing so. At her confused seeming frown, he released his grip on her face for a moment and shook his head before taking a few paces back from her and raising an eyebrow.

"_So.. Are you coming or not?"_

Not waiting for a reply given the fact that he already knew which side of the situation she would end up falling towards, Draco simply grinned and turned abruptly away from her, grabbing his flask out of his pocket again and taking a long series of swigs as he strode back into the darkness of the alleyway and on towards his home; a path that Hermione knew well enough to follow by now.

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**AN: Ok, this is my first EVER attempt at a Dramione fic.. It probably sucks , but I wanted to challenge myself a bit and write something that was COMPLETELY out of my usual shipping domain. Please R&R if you can, any level of feedback is encouraged seeing as I have no idea what I'm doing in this ship lol. But either way, let me know what you think, even if you're flaming me - I know I'm in over my head here, so feel free to tell me exactly where I've screwed up.**


	2. Lover I Don't Have To Love

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**Chapter Two - Lover I Don't Have to Love**

"_Your tongue in my mouth,  
Trying to keep the words from coming out,  
You didn't care to know  
Who else may have been you before."_  
"_I want a Lover I don't have to love,  
I want a girl who's too sad to give a fuck"_

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With the slight urge for any sort of post-coital conversation having long worn off, Draco found himself staring at the ceiling and suddenly finding himself thinking over the war that he had managed to miss the bulk off - as he often seemed to do especially whilst laying in a certain bushy haired brunette's company - Draco frowned to himself and tugged his arm out from underneath Hermione's shoulders with a scowl towards her as if she had forced herself atop the particular limb. Shaking his head, he rolled over onto one side, ignoring the damp grey bed sheet tangling itself around his legs even more so than before and reaching to pluck a cigarette from a tarnished silver case on the nightstand, lighting it and puffing the smoke out towards the far wall with a frown, his back willingly turned on his bedfellow yet again. His mind always seemed to wander during such evenings; every time mulling over how ridiculous it was that he was laid there once again with the same thoughts racing round his head, all whilst sharing a bed with a generally disrobed and rather flushed Hermione Granger; playing nice with an enemy to the cause, just for the sake of insulting the memory of an ex rival in the only way he could manage to, given that such a person was 6ft under and far from being sentient when it came to Draco's lingering disgust with the boy wonder and his goody goody methods of 'cleaning up' the wizarding world.

Harry Potter, despite somehow managing to survive the war - due to a bizarre series of lucky moves that led him to the defeat of Voldemort and slowly brought the associated dark army to it's proverbial knees - had sadly continued to live through several years to follow the war, long enough even to spawn a miniature red haired atrocity courtesy of the youngest Weasley, who answered to the typically clichéd name of 'Lilly'. Such fruit of Potter's loins though, was soon rendered an orphan just like her daddy, as the attacks on his life continued on a regular and increasingly fruitful basis; seeing the boy in St Mungo's for a longer duration than he was ever able to spend at home with his fiancé and their illegitimate child and with such attacks only stopping after the job was done properly, resulting in both Harry and Ginny's tandem murder whilst on their way home a few years later at the hands of a still unknown adversary.

Given that such murders, or numerous attempts, were still prevalent in the wizarding world - and not surprisingly given the general stance that a dark witch or wizard was less willing to forgive than a pissed off Hippogriff - the war may have been won some time ago, but at times it still seemed far from over.

Supporters of the since fallen Lord Voldemort were still rife in several communities worldwide; some had gone into hiding, hoping desperately that their numbers would increase again so they could put the plans that they had worked on since the Dark Lord's defeat into action- a feat which seemed to get further and further from being possible as the days drew on. Some of them had played the familiar seeming game of claiming innocence in their actions; professing to have been threatened so unspeakably that they were forced to oblige, or simply claiming to have been under the Imperius curse and blaming their actions on such an excuse. There were a few, however, that had managed to duck under the ministry's radar during the more brutal exchanges of the war, as well as having distanced themselves enough from the proceedings that followed its conclusion; therefore remaining as un-noted Death Eaters and with one Narcissa Malfoy nestled amongst their hidden numbers if nothing more than to avenge her husband with her last dying breath if necessary. Lucius had, of course, been slain during the tail-end of the war, despite managing to survive for a good while after the rather impressive break-out by himself and his peers from Azkaban during the start of the war. The elder Malfoy had only fallen due to an act of foolish pride, having been surrounded by a few lingering ministry officials during a particularly nasty attack on Diagon Alley and continuing to fire unforgivables at them without reprieve despite their seeming unwillingness to retaliate until one of their own was struck down by a carefully aimed Avada Kedavra curse; such an assassination leading to Lucius' instant death by the very same means.

The younger Malfoy however, had taken the cowards route out of such matters before the war had even began; sneaking away shortly after the end of his 6th Hogwarts year, taking as many Galleons and rare artefacts as he could carry and heading straight for a pre-prepared safe haven in Russia. An odd choice one might have thought, but it was not only accessible and more importantly unknown to anyone besides Draco and Narcissa, but the climate, women and excess of Vodka were all found to be much to Draco's taste after such a spectacularly failed attempt of his assassination of Dumbledore. He had not even heard of his Father's death until he had returned back to England, having cut off contact with everyone he used to know in favour of wasting away in a mockingly lavish room with nothing but his wand, a few whores and a seemingly never-ending bottle of Firewhiskey for company within the several years he had remained there.

Such solitude seemed to have done nothing more than absorb the few positive aspects of Draco that had been before, leaving in their place a bitter shell of a man with a poignant disdain for the muggle world as well as most of its wizarding counterpart. The news of his Father's death and his Mother's disappearance on his return near 7 years later, appeared to have sucked out whatever life there was left in him, from the moment he had set foot inside the palatial Malfoy Manor with not even the sound of a scurrying house elf to echo off of the cavernous walls to comfort him in their absence from such a domain.

Snapped out of his thoughts as a familiar chin rested itself on his side with the owner of such an appendage peering up at him with annoyingly dark brown eyes, Draco sighed to himself, rolling his eyes before stubbing his cigarette out in a plant pot that closely resembled an ashtray due to the fact that it contained a score of cigarette ends lurking beneath the withered leaves of a long dead plant that, for some reason, still remained beside the guestroom bed despite its untimely demise some months earlier. Turning away from the decaying remnants of what had once been some miniature flowering bush that he'd never bothered to learn the name of, Draco locked eyes with the brunette who appeared to now be smiling from behind him, her chin still resting on his skin and the slight stickiness of flesh on flesh near driving him to bat her off of the bed with a rolled up copy of the daily prophet, much like a disobedient house pet. His brow furrowing into a rather tired seeming frown, he stared at her expectantly, sounding equally as disinterested as he felt and provoking a near matching wrinkle in Hermione's forehead at such an expression.

"_What?"_

Hermione's frown deepened at his tone, although in a far more curious capacity than the previously exasperated one. Simply staring at him for a moment, she sighed inwardly and brushed a thick curl from her face, tilting her head slightly to one side as if assessing him a little more.

"_Why do you always do that?"_

_"__Do what?__"_

"_Act like I'm not even in the room.."_

Finding himself easily bored by such a line of enquiry before it had even been raised, Draco turned away from her once more and reached for his cigarette case, wordlessly extracting another cigarette and lighting it with an equally silent twitch of his wand. Breathing out a stream of smoke towards the high ceiling of the room, he shrugged a moment later, smirking to himself as he took another drag from his smoke.

"_Because, Granger, once I'm done with you, I like to imagine that you're not actually in the room. It helps suppress the nausea."_

Simply rolling her eyes at such a comment, she frowned briefly before shoving him away from her with a slight smirk, her head shaking as she grabbed the sheet, wrenching it from around him and wrapping it around herself before shuffling off the bed to rescue her previously discarded clothes.

"_Well then, you'll be happy to know that one day - and pretty soon I'd wager if you keep this attitude up - I wont be in the room at all. And seeing how we all know how very much you like to think you can have everything; 'never again' might be a little hard to take from the receiving end, Malfoy.. Especially coming from me.."_

She paused, dropping the sheet and picking up her wrinkled shirt in its place, looking back over her bare shoulder and flashing the blonde a slight smirk at the view she could tell he was getting by the sudden narrowing of his eyes. Shaking her head at his suddenly rather more annoyed expression, she straightened her shirt out briefly before slipping it behind her back and over her arms, turning back to face him with a grin as she began to fasten the buttons.

"_And you will miss me when I'm gone. I guarantee it"_

Both of Draco's eyebrows raised in slight disbelief at the rather confidently sassy edge to her tone as he tried to keep his gaze from falling a few inches south of where it was currently focused. Taking a brief moment to compose himself, he smirked, a rather typical knee-jerk reaction to his being rather stumped by such a comment.

"_Yeah, I'm as sure of that as I would be of my undying love for Potter if the creep were still alive" _He smirked, shaking his head slightly_ "That was sarcasm by the way, in case you missed it. Keep dreaming, Granger. Anyway, isn't it about time you were running home to that little pet Weasel of yours?"_

Hermione huffed quietly to herself, shaking her head as she sat back down on the edge of the bed and shimmied into her trousers. Evidently, trying to get any sort of pleasant reaction out of Draco Malfoy was like trying to get blood from a stone; seemingly useless and potentially messy if such a theory was at all plausible.

"_Don't worry, I'm already on my w--"_

Her words stopped sharply, fading into a confused silence as the two frowned warily towards the closed door. A faint humming seemed to be coming from behind it, growing louder by the second. And if Hermione wasn't mistaken, it appeared to be an old Weird Sisters tune that she had loved back in her Hogwarts days. Before she had time to voice such a comment or even before the two had gotten a chance to exchange the rather miffed expression that they each were wearing, there was a hard rap on the door and the slurred booming of a male voice to follow.

"_I don't care what Knockturn whore-in-training you've got in there this time mate, I'm coming in regardless. I have Firewhiskey and we're finishing, at the very least, this bottle before I stumble home"_

Instantly recognising the voice to be that of his best friend, Blaise Zabini, Draco put a hand to his head for a moment, shaking it in disbelief before running his fingers back through his hair in a bid to straighten himself up a little whilst mulling over the inevitable question; how the hell he was he supposed to get the ex-Gryffindor out of a room with no other exit, in a house that he had made sure to have warded against apparation? And if he couldn't get her out of the room, then where could he…

"_The bathroom.." _

He muttered in a hushed but almost revelatory tone to himself, turning quickly towards Hermione as he half scrambled off the bed and towards a discarded bathrobe a few feet away, slipping it over his shoulders and fastening the knot at the front in a matter of seconds. Simply glad to hear that Blaise seemed to be amusing himself with a rather wrong version of the song he had previously been humming, Draco had barely noticed Hermione watching him scurrying around with an almost wicked grin at his sudden predicament. It wasn't until she chuckled to herself that he even turned from his mission to kick random items of clothing underneath his bed, soon frowning once he did realised that she hadn't moved an inch and stalking over towards her.

"_Just get in the damn Bathroom! Now!"_

He hissed in a harsh whisper, to which Hermione simply smirked, shaking her head and looking rather more amused than Draco could bear. With a hand on her hip, Hermione raised an eyebrow, the smirk on her face showing no sign of shifting.

"_I'm not just some dog that you can bark commands at, Draco. It doesn't work that way. Besides, the look on Zabini's face upon spotting me here would be far too priceless to miss, and the look on yours would just be the icing on the cake!" _She grinned, raising an eyebrow and reaching up to her shirt buttons _"How about I loosen a few of these, just for effect.."_

Draco's mouth near fell open at this, his eyes widening slightly and his head shaking as he headed towards her, pulling her hands away from her shirt and back down to her sides, his tone sounding suddenly rather panicked.

"_For fuck's sake, stop it! This isn't a bloody joke, Granger! Do you have any idea what he'd…" _

Draco sighed defeatedly, looking quickly back towards the door with a frown before turning back to Hermione with an almost imploring look.

"_He cant see you here.. He just cant, Ok? Look, By the sounds of it, he'll be passed out within the hour, so.. Just-- get in the bathroom.. Please??"_

Hermione's eyebrows raised in surprise at his tone; so subtly frantic, almost desperate. Had Draco Malfoy actually just vaguely pleaded with her, without throwing a hex or a fit of harsh words her way? Or had he simply spiked her drink with sleeping draught and left her to pass out and imagine such an oddity? Shaking her head briefly as if to clarify such a thought, finding such a thing rather flabbergasting given the boys usual stance on pleasantries, she opened her mouth to speak just as a fairly muffled _'__Come on mate__'_came from the hallway outside, silencing the both of them once more.

"_Alright! Give me a bloody minute!" _

Draco snapped through partially gritted teeth, shooting Hermione one last and compellingly pleading glance, at which Hermione nodded her head towards the door on the far side of the room before wandering over and slipping through it with a rather bemused expression. Slightly miffed but relieved that he'd done something to grant him such a favour despite the thought of having done such a thing to warrant it being faintly disturbing, Draco headed towards the door, wand in hand and a practiced fake yawn ready to spread across his features. With a tap of his wand on the large silver door handle, a faint click sounded out as the handle raised itself, allowing the door to slide open to reveal the tall, dark and still drunkenly handsome Blaise Zabini and allowing Draco's practiced yawn to surface.

"_Just so you know, mate, I've exhausted most of Knockturn as it goes, and I **was **asleep actually - dreaming of far better things than the ten a sickle tramps that usually end up falling into my bed after a little time in your company.."_

Blaise chuckled, shaking his head and handing the bottle towards Draco and taking a few long strides into the room as Draco breathed a sigh of relief that the boy was too wasted to have noticed anything being amiss. wagging a finger over his shoulder at Draco as he moved towards a pair of fireside seats to one side of the room.

"_Ten a Sickle? That's only because you get left with the only few short sighted women who aren't pawing for a peek in my kecks.. You know I've always been the pretty one, mate, no need to be bitter."_

Blaise smirked, giving Draco a playful punch in the shoulder which nearly sent Blaise himself toppling over as Draco winced slightly and rolled his eyes with a slight laugh. As Blaise caught his balance on the arm of the chair beside him, eventually realising that sitting might be his best bet if he wanted to leave without a head injury, Draco soon followed suit and flopped down in the adjacent armchair, kicking his feet over one arm and pouring them each a large glass of Firewhiskey.

"_So, What are we toasting to? To you turning up on my doorstep drunk.. Again?" _Draco smirked, raising an eyebrow suddenly _"And who the fuck let you in? I should sack them.. Or chop their head off depending on species"_

Blaise smirked, nodding his head and clinking his glass to the side of Draco's and promptly taking a long swig from it.

"_We're toasting the single life.. I think.. Yeah, that'll do.. And huh? Oh.. House elf let me in.. You know, the little one.. Funny ears…"_

Blaise waved a hand as if to suggest that his point had been made and even if it hadn't gotten across, that he wasn't about to go into any further detail. Draco laughed, taking a long drink that near emptied his glass and instantly going in for a refill. Topping up Blaise's glass as well, he paused as he set the bottle down on the table, flicking his wand towards the fireplace and watching the flames leap up in the hearth for a moment before turning back towards Blaise.

"_Come on then, why are you really here? You only ever turn up this pissed due to two things: women, and… well, women.."_

Draco smirked, to which Blaise did the same as he picked up his glass to polish off another large mouthful of the fiery liquid. Slamming the glass down a little harder than necessary, Blaise sighed, leaning back in the chair with a sullenly amused look on his face.

"_Alright, fine.. Fine, fine, fine.. I suppose I should start at the beginning..."_


	3. A Line Allows Progress

**Chapter Three**

**----A Line Allows Progress----**

"_As you try to find some source of light  
try to name one thing you like  
you used to have such a longer list  
and light you never had to look for it  
but now it's so easy-- it's so easy to  
it's so easy-- it's so easy to  
second guess everything you do" _

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Hermione sighed loudly to herself as she stared around the ever immaculate furnishings of Draco's en suite, her eyes scanning over the ornate tiling and soon allowing her fingers to follow the same path, brushing them along the length of what appeared to be several conjoined shapes that were almost of a fleur-de-lys type pattern and smirking slightly to herself. She had already casually rummaged through the majority of the bathrooms nooks and crannies in her boredom, being rather surprised to find a bottle of what appeared to be muggle Valium in one of the cupboards, as well as a quantity of various beautifying tonics and styling potions to rival most women's bathrooms. It amazed and amused her equally when she thought of how vain Draco was. And equally how opposite she was from such a notion; having retained her long and somewhat bushy locks since her schooldays and having never really questioned a change in such, other than the odd straightening charm in aid of a social gathering of some sort, and that was generally at Ron's semi frowning request.

Thinking of Ron suddenly, her heart sank in her chest and her fingers dropped from the wall as she turned to face her own reflection in the large mirror that hung over the sink, taking up nigh an entire wall of the large room. She barely recognised herself when she thought of him. She looked like a different person, felt like a different person. With her hair tousled and bushy for reasons that Ron had never quite managed to equal up to, her gaze guarded yet focussed rather than glazed by years of monotony, and her heart leaping in her chest at the sudden thought that she had a husband back home who was blissfully unaware of the lover she had on the other side of the door, keeping her locked away from those he knew like some embarrassing hindrance.

She was still somewhat unsure why exactly she chose to spend any time at all in Draco's company, especially time of such a surreptitious nature, when this was the treatment she received. And why she was actually hiding in his bathroom just to save him an earful from Blaise was even harder to fathom when she could just as easily burst out of the door with a prepared grin on her lips and give the whole game away in an instant. Which seemed especially apt seeing that it would likely constitute a long overdue payback for the past few months she had spent rather questionably in Malfoy's company. But there was just something about the blonde that fascinated her; that had always fascinated her if she admitted to it. There was something about the way he carried himself, even now after having been broken by years of alcohol abuse and general dismay in accordance to how he had planned his life to be - a matter of which she knew a fair deal about.

There were moments, albeit drunken and fleeting, where she would get a glimpse of the man that lurked beneath the ever present pureblood facade. A hint of who Draco actually was underneath the years of grooming by his father and surrounding associates. Moments where he would drunkenly drop his guard and spill snippets of information about his past, his present, his dreams and his downright dismay to have ended up how he was. These were the moments, she mused, that kept her coming back. The moments that left her always wanting more, figuratively salivating for the next snippet of a life history that, in her humble opinion, was not only truly fascinating but was a large factor in not only who Draco was, but how to approach the matter of his current being with as minimal damage as possible. She saw him as a challenge, and a challenge in the most intellectual sense she could imagine.

That was merely the side effect of having a presently dull and tedious life, she supposed. Especially for one who had seen more adventures in her formative years than any child ought to. She wondered how Ron didn't crave the same excitement she did, wondered why he was so content to just carry on with a monotonous life when he could do so much more if he only dared to. It was the same routine, near enough, every day at the Weasley household; Ron would get up with the expectation of breakfast, eating silently until it was time to head off to work and then, after a single kiss on the cheek for Hermione, would head off to the Ministry for Merlin-knew how many hours a day, doing the same sort of thankless job that his Father had for far too many hours a day before returning home to sit in front of the fire with a heap of paperwork stacked beside him as Hermione brought him tea and tried to coax him into conversation. Some nights her ploys worked and she would crack a smile alongside his, maybe even an honest laugh on the odd occasion. But more often than not the expressions were weak and vague, his eyes meeting hers for only the smallest of moments before he would turn back to his official business, his conversation running dry before it could even begin. She knew Harry's death had hit him hard in many senses, but it was so many years past that she was beginning to give up hope that Ron would ever be the smiling ginger boy that she knew and loved from her youth.

She had no idea how long she had been in the bathroom as she flopped down onto a chaise lounge that sat beside the doorframe, studying the long and rather unkempt nails on one of her hands as she tried to reason to herself that Draco would summon for her once he was finished with Blaise. She hated her willingness to accept such a fate, but it was one that came along with its perks at times, as she had previously reasoned.. She needed to stop thinking so much; that had always been her problem. Over rationalizing things and spending precious little time stepping into the heat of the moment and being willingly engulfed by it. That was precisely what Draco had become; and precisely what he would remain if she just sat tight.

The muffled sound from the other side of the thick door was becoming rather tiresome seeing as she could not decipher any words from the sounds that were emanating from beyond the heavy wood. She scanned the bathroom quickly, her eyes settling on a glass resting on one of the large marble countertops and causing her to smirk briefly to herself as she stood up and leant towards it, plucking it off the counter and twirling it briefly in one hand. She remembered seeing someone use a similar receptacle in a movie once, pressed up against a wall and used as an amplification device to hear the people's conversation on the other side. Of course, the idea worked in theory, but with such an invention as Fred and George's extendible ears generally being close to hand, she had never had need for anything but such when doing anything akin to eavesdropping. But being dressed in little more than a button down shirt didn't exactly lend itself to being prepared for the current situation, and likely wouldn't have done even if she'd had more than a few short moments to get into the bathroom to begin with.

Shrugging to herself, she slowly slid the glass onto the wooden surface, taking care not to make any sound as she did so. It would be one thing for her to be discovered hiding in there from the perspective of Blaise's reaction, but she had a feeling that if that were coupled with Draco discovering her eavesdropping on the two, it would certainly not work well in her favour. Slowly moving her head towards the glass, she pressed an ear up against it and sucked in a long breath, remaining silent as she listened for the words to become clear; smiling to herself as Draco's voice first rang out from the other side of the door.

_"__Shit.. You have_ got_to be kidding me…"_

_"__Nope. Sadly not, mate... "_

There was a long pause followed by a heavy sounding sigh. Hermione frowned, pressing her ear slightly harder against the glass as she waited for Draco to speak in response.

_"__And you expect me to do what about it, exactly, Blaise? …"_

_"__Give me an alibi for tonight.. And if worst comes to worst, do whatever it was that your Dad used to do and buy me out of it or something.."_

Draco scoffed, slamming his glass down on the table. ___"__Charming, Blaise.. Fucking charming..__"_

_"__Oh, come on, mate.. It wouldn't exactly be a big drop in the pond would it.."_

___"That's entirely besides the point.." _Draco said curtly, sighing again.___ "Ok.. Hypothetically speaking, what if I _couldn't_ give you an alibi?"_

___"Well, hypothetically speaking, I'd have to go on the run I imagine. After beating you in the head with something blunt and heavy for not giving me a sodding alibi, that is.."_

Hermione frowned, pressing her ear harder against the glass at the sudden silence that had accompanied Blaise's words. What had Blaise done that would require an alibi? And why hadn't she been listening the entire time that she;d been in the bathroom rather than mooning over her current situation and what to make of it?

She wasn't even sure that she wanted to hear any more. Given what Draco had just said about the potential of not being able to give Blaise an alibi, despite the age old cover of it being a hypothetical matter, Hermione already felt like more of a liability than she would care to. One one side: the less she knew, the less she would have to be involved, technically speaking. But on the other hand, Blaise could have done something truly terrible to warrant not only his request but the tone of Draco's voice coupled with the current silence in the room.

Against better judgement, Hermione pressed her ear back towards the glass, frowning all the while as she waited for the silence to subside; Draco finally breaking it in a weary sounding tone.

___"Mate, I.."_ he sighed again._"What the fuck were you thinking?!"_

Blaise laughed humourlessly_. __"I wasn't thinking. That's the whole point."_

___"Merlin, Blaise.. Even if I hated to say 'I told you so' I'd be revelling in screaming it in your face right now.. How many times did I warn you about her?! Huh? You said you weren't even seeing the worthless whore any more.."_

Blaise swiftly interrupted, his tone suddenly rather vicious although clearly drunk. ___"She's _NOT _a worthless whore! Far from it, in fact! Don't you EVER fucking call her that!"_

Draco merely laughed an all too familiar laugh. Hermione could almost picture him; head shaking, blonde hair flopping forward into his eyes as he turned a typically derisive sneer towards his friend. She knew that particular laugh well; it was a favourite of Draco's when it came to his frequent need to make her feel small and insignificant in his company. She knew the tone that would follow before he spoke, smirking rather bitterly as it followed perfectly a moment later.

___"I think that after your demands of me this evening, Blaise, as well as_ her ___being the cause for such ludicrous needs; I can say whatever the fuck I please about that mangy little tramp.."_

___"Mate, don't fucking start.."_ Blaise growled.___ "You know how I get when it comes to her.."_

The two's voices seemed to be growing far more angered with every word, Hermione's frown growing with every harsh syllable as she found herself quite unable to tear her ear away from the sound of the ongoing scene.

___"Oh, come on.. It's as if she didn't make school enough of a nightmare for you, not to mention the years after that! You just have to keep letting her come back for one final blow, don't you? And every bloody time, you expect me to feed you firewhiskey and talk you out of your insane habit for her once she's fucked you over again, or to cover for you when you fuck up.. Same old same old, right?"_

There was a series of sudden crackling sounds in the air followed by a loud smash, then a sharp buzzing and a yelping noise that sounded as if it could have come from either men; the combination of sudden noise wrenching Hermione's ear from the glass in a sort of knee jerk reaction. She had near frozen on the other side of the door, her free hand having barely stifled the gasp that she had let escape her mouth at such a sudden disturbance and her other trying to stop her suddenly shaking hand from rattling the glass it was holding. Falling halfway between slightly terrified and rigorously intrigued, she had no clue which side it was safer to fall towards, wondering if she should continue to listen to the two of them until they reached some sort of resolve, no matter how morbid the possibility could be, or whether she should adopt some sort of hidden position within the rather large bathroom and wait for it to be over so that she could get out without harm. The voices had started again, and it was only a few moments after they had that Hermione snapped out of her reverie, pressing her ear to the glass once more although a tad too late to clearly discern which side of the argument the present comment was coming from; her mind telling her the whole while that it was likely Blaise's voice.

___"You'll fucking regret that, mate.."_

The sound of voices was instantly replaced with a loud snapping sound that ricocheted through the glass as though it was a far more tangible force. Hermione resisted the urge to cry out at the sudden force of the sound, although the shock of it had clearly been too much for her glass wielding hand to deal with aptly; the glass falling from her grasp in what seemed to be slow motion, leaving Hermione to watch helplessly as it tumbled towards the stone floor.

Her breath hitched in her throat, knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it although it seemed to be falling at the rate that something would on the surface of the moon. The inevitable smash was coming, and the moment the glass hit the ground with a loud shattering sound, a gasp had left her lips that she knew would not be easily taken back.

She stood up quickly, wishing that her wand was somewhere on her person rather than laying somewhere beside Draco's bed, and headed towards the rather ridiculously large sunken bathtub that sat at one end of the room. There was nowhere that she could hide, per say, but the tub itself seemed large enough for her to dive in should an offending hex be shot in her direction, and perhaps if she armed herself with something, she might have the chance to get out of such a situation as hiding in the tub without doing so in an unconscious - or worse - manner.

She didn't know exactly why she felt that it would be Blaise who had uttered those final words as well as the one who had likely heard the tell tale smashing from the inside of the bathroom, but her mind had already darted to the more dire conclusion and she would rather be prepared for that than be caught out empty handed due to foolishly thinking the best of the situation.

Scanning round the bathroom quickly, finding nothing of immediate prowess for dealing some damage on a potential offender, she squinted her eyes slightly at a silver towel rack protruding from one side of the large marble counter. She only had moments to decide whether such a choice was wise, but found herself not caring in the slightest at coming up with nothing else that might aid her in her current predicament. She reached towards it, grabbing the pristine white towel that hung from it and casting it aside before tugging with all her might on the offending piece of silver with both hands. After mere moments of using her entire bodyweight to try and loosen the thing, one side had come free, causing her to stagger backwards and land in a heap on the floor with one end of the silver rod in her hand and the other side still decidedly bolted to the marble it was fastened to. Tugging rather furiously on the already loose end, she had no time to wrench the other side off as the bathroom door suddenly swung inwards, slamming into the wall beside it to reveal a grinning, wand bearing figure on the other side.

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_**AN::**_**Ok, it's been forEVER since I've updated anything, and I must admit that I never thought this'd be this story that saw an update over the others.. But, alas, inspiration will strike when and how it chooses, inevitably.**

**I'm not sure how much more sense - if any - this chapter makes of things; it was more an exploration of Hermione's side, in part, as well as moving things along a tad and sort of tying up the end of the last chapter (Well, nowhere near tying it up, really.. But thats another matter entirely.. muah ha :p) as well as getting myself reacquainted with the story itself (it has been a while.. lol)**

**But regardless of what it does for the tale, it suddenly popped into my head as the next step in things and sort of wrote itself.. So there you have it.**

**Hopefully I'll manage to have the next portion of it up soon given that it's still rather clear in my head, although every time I say something like that I end up with a nasty case of writers block.. So I'll shut up before I jinx myself.**

**I must give props to my ever vigilant Chocolate bear for reminding me that I love to write again, lol. It's been a hell of a year for me and I'd sort of forgotten that I took comfort in text recently, so thanks for the reminder SCB xx**

**Oh yeah, and slight cliffhanger-y-ness... That wasn't really meant to happen, it was more an offshoot of reading a certain ladies fic update earlier on and deciding to stop there rather than carry on writing.. lol! Blame 'Orbthesela' if you wanted more ;) (lol! Sorry luv)  
**

**Enjoy it, hate it, ignore it; whatever ;)**

**R&R, if you please. Feedback is Love - be it good or bad.**


	4. A New Arrangement

**Chapter Four  
A New Arrangement**

_"If you could change your days,  
Arranging them in some sweet new sequence  
Like any new arrangement's gonna make a difference  
'Cause it's the moment that you're living in  
And not the one that follows  
That makes this mess you're cleaning in your head"_

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Hermione remained frozen on the bathroom floor as she peered up at the figure stood in the doorway, her face contorted into a mask of sheer confusion and the person opposite her looking just as miffed; although in a slightly more amused manner than Hermione herself. Taking a step further into the room, the new arrival in the doorway rose an eyebrow disbelievingly and continued to grin down at Hermione.

_"Granger?"_ The grin turned to a sudden laugh, a dark head of hair shaking from side to side as its owner stepped further into the room. _"My, my. His standards really are slipping aren't they? "_ She smirked, shrugging _"And to think, I imagined that even the concept of Russian whores was entirely beneath him. Just goes to show how wrong a girl can be, doesn't it? .."_

_"P-- Pansy?!" _Hermione near choked on the word, staring incredulously towards the girl.

_"Surprise.."_ Pansy replied merrily, grinning again and throwing her arms in the air for a moment as though her being there was all part of some childish game of hide and seek with rather more twisted rules. Smirking at Hermione's nonplussed reaction, Pansy cast a nod towards the half detached silver rod still in the other girl's hand._"Expecting Blaise, were you?"_

Hermione's mouth merely hung open, wordless; she was utterly dumbfounded. It had been a fair while since she had seen Pansy Parkinson in any capacity that didn't involve the ex Slytherin sneering at her in the streets of Diagon Alley on the odd occasion that Hermione bumped into her there - which wasn't a frequent occurrence.

Pansy, as had been much publicised in the Daily Prophet in the months after Hermione had left school, had married into a great deal of money; her husband being a rather prominent worldwide trader and one who seemed equally inclined to show Pansy herself the ropes of such a money machine. The two had long since divorced, having lasted only a couple of years, but Pansy was still a rather notorious figure in modern society; half because of the river of men she had waded through in the previous few years, but also due to her voracious appetite for the business she had been taught by her ex spouse and anything associated with making an easy few galleons in a similar capacity. If Hermione hadn't disliked the girl so much, she was sure she would have been inclined to lean towards slight admiration to what she had made of herself, despite the means of Pansy's success being dubious at best.

But to see her now, stood before her with her wand in hand and a smirk on her lips, was not only shocking for the matter that there had been no obvious presence of the girl in the house only moments before, but there was also the slight matter of Pansy having her wand raised and no hex having yet hit Hermione for the mere fact of her being there.

_"What-- I--"_ Hermione stuttered, her head shaking as she tried to concentrate on posing one question at a time. _"What are _you _doing here?"_

Pansy merely smirked, seeming far too at ease with the situation than she perhaps should be as she strode through the room, keeping her wand trained on Hermione the entire while, and perched herself on the edge of the bathtub with a quick glance towards Hermione before answering her in a rather matter-of-fact tone.

_"Oh, you'll find that Blaise is a surprisingly easy mark to stalk after he's had a few to drink.. I couldn't risk him fucking things up completely now, could I?"_ She said with a chuckle to herself, a low sound that seemed to echo menacingly around the tiled room. _"The question _should_ be, what are _you _doing here?"_ She smirked, her eyebrows raising a fraction as she scanned Hermione briefly up and down. _"Although we both already know _exactly_ why you're here, I'm quite certain."_

Hermione's face reddened slightly, her head shaking. _"Look, it's not--"_

_"Not what I think; Not what it looks like?" _Pansy interrupted in the same plain tone, sneering all the while and continuing in an all too familiar sarcastic tone._ "Yes, I'm sure that there's a _perfectly_ valid explanation as to why you're cowering, half naked and virtually unarmed in Draco's bathroom, with half a detached bathroom fixture in your hand.. or in the wall, perhaps.. It's sort of verging on both isn't it?"_ She smirked._ "Either way, it's depressingly pathetic and you're not fooling me for a moment."_

Hermione frowned, finding herself slightly embarrassed that she'd even attempted to get out of her current predicament with such a pointless and clearly untrue line. Still, there was still the question of why Pansy was there in the first place, prompting her brow to furrow again.

_"How.. How did you even get in here?"_

Pansy grinned in response, clearly proud of herself. _"Well that one was far more simple than I'd imagined, as it goes. As soon as I'd clocked that Blaise was stumbling his way here, it was easy enough to sneak past the elf and into the house when the little wretch answered the door. The disillusionment charm's a godsend at times, don't you think? And having Blaise's stumbling form to use as an apt distraction, it was child's-play."_ She chuckled, shaking her head. "_And bless darling little Blaise, he knows his way through the wards of this estate so well, even when he's that pissed. I barely had to lift a finger at all. You'd think Malfoy would be a little warier, wouldn't you? Still, that ego of his is too large for him to see all his bases, let alone cover them I suppose."_

Hermione frowned, her head filling with questions that she daren't pose quite yet. _"I don't.."_ she paused, shaking her head for a moment before composing herself once more and adopting a rather less shocked expression. _"I take it that you were the one they were discussing in there.."_

Pansy smiled almost smugly, leaning forward and wagging a finger vaguely in Hermione's direction.

_"Tut, tut. Sounds like you're looking for a confession, Granger.."_ Pansy smirked, shrugging and leaning a little further towards Hermione. _"I take it you heard their little exchange then?"_

Hermione scoffed, folding her arms across her chest in a rather protective manner. _"A question generally requires an answer, not a return question, Pansy."_

_"True."_ Pansy replied, smirking. _"But why should I bother to answer something that seems_ so _obvious?"_

Hermione rolled her eyes, staring down towards the floor and feeling suddenly rather helpless. She allowed her hand to fall from the still half attached towel rail and towards the floor in a silent bid of defeat, her fingers finding the hem of her shirt in an instant and fiddling with a fraying edge as the silence lingered in the air. It _was _obvious; all the more so given that Pansy had near admitted to being the culprit that the boys had spoken of, even though Hermione was still rather annoyingly unclear on what she was the culprit of exactly.

_"Ok, fine.. But answer me one thing; What did you do to them both?"_ Hermione paused and frowned warily. _"They're not.."_

_"Dead?"_ Pansy concluded with a laugh, shaking her head. _"No. Just unconscious."_

_"Oh.. Well, are they.. Ok?"_

_"Merlin.. Have you never heard the phrase 'leave your work at the office', Granger?"_ Pansy sighed, waving a hand dismissively as if the other girl's answer was entirely irrelevant. _"They always get out of control when they're pissed; first with the fists, then the wands come out.."_ She shook her head, smirking. _"It was simply far easier to stop them where they were than have to sit through it or risk being caught out by a lucky shot from one of them."_

Hermione nodded her head without realising she was doing so, and instantly stopping the motion as she realised that she was technically agreeing with Pansy's point by doing so. Frowning suddenly to follow, she rose an eyebrow curiously towards Pansy.

_"Um.. I hate to deviate from this rather oddly polite conversation, but.. Why are you being so indulgent? You've barely done more than scowl at me since.. well, since I've known you, in fact. Why the sudden tolerance for conversation?"_

Pansy sighed, her voice sounding rather bored. _"Again, I thought you were smart for a mudblood.. Oh well, I suppose I can indulge you a little more."_ Pansy grinned, rising from her seat on the edge of the bath and moving towards Hermione with a widespread grin. _"It's because you're going to help me, Granger."_

Hermione's eyes widened, hardly believing what she was hearing. "Help_ you_?!" she spat out, astonished. _"And what exactly makes you think that I'd be even slightly inclined to help you?"_

Pansy merely smirked, nodding her head vaguely in the direction of Draco's room; where the blonde lay out unconscious on the floor, a few feet from Blaise, the both of them seeming equally still. Turning back to Hermione, Pansy smiled.

_"The fact that if you don't, Mr Weasley will have his heart figuratively torn out with the knowledge of your new little playmate.."_ Pansy said with a shrug before flicking her wand arm suddenly upwards with a bored expression. Several tiny ropes sprang forth from the tip instantly, shooting towards Hermione and binding themselves around her wrists in seconds. Pansy smiled almost sweetly, tilting her head to one side in an appraising manner. _"Or I could just make you wait here while I head to that hovel you call a home and remove his heart in a more realistic sense while he sleeps.. Personally, I'd go with whichever choice is more likely to make you comply."_

Hermione's eyes narrowed, her voice a low hiss. _"You wouldn't dare.."_

Pansy stood up, grinning, her eyebrows raised in a rather threatening manner. _"Would you really like to test that theory?"_

Hermione glared at the girl, her head shaking momentarily but soon stopping as she realised that she didn't really have another option but to comply; unless you saw the matter of having your marriage entirely ruined, husband potentially murdered and - more than likely - reputation tarnished, to be a choice.

Begrudgingly, Hermione turned her eyes up towards the dark haired girl and shook her head rather feebly. _"No.. No, I wouldn't."_

Pansy smiled, nodding her head and moving closer towards Hermione, crouching down in front of her. _"Look, Granger.. I don't want this to be particularly painful for any of us; if I had done, you'd be able to tell by the crippling pain in lieu of conversation. I just want your assistance; I can't very well let you go on about your business now that you know at least something about my current little.. project.."_

At this, Pansy smiled, leaning forward and brushing a strand of hair behind Hermione's ear; causing the ex Gryffindor to fight every impulse within her that threatened to cringe away from such an action as Pansy began to speak again in a rather syrupy tone.

_"Think of it as a business deal. You get to keep your husband _and_ your boy-toy privileges intact, and I get what I want as an end result.. So, you have my offer, and we can either do this the easy way or the hard way." _She smirked, shrugging._ "I'm rather apt at both, oddly enough.. But as much as you might find me entirely wretched as a person under normal terms, I think you'll find that I am quite the opposite when it comes to business.. Well, when it comes to my associates within such business, anyway. Which would be the position you would technically be assuming.."_

Hermione's frown subsided somewhat, her eyes staring towards the far wall as her head tried to ponder any means of escape that didn't entail at least initially going along with what Parkinson had to offer. Sighing shortly afterwards, she turned back to Pansy with a rather resolved expression.

_"Ok, fine.. Say I_ were _to become an 'associate' as you dub it.. What exactly_ is _it that you want, Pansy?"_

Pansy simply grinned, flicking her wand over her shoulder with a wordless incantation that only seemed to cause her grin to widen. _"Oh, you'll see.. But first, I'll be requiring a little something from you.. Just for good measure, you understand."_

Hermione frowned, about to pose another question towards Pansy when a sharp crack filled the room and a rather old and typically wrinkled house elf suddenly appeared beside Pansy, wearing the standard gormless expression of one in such servitude; the same expression that had once upon a time instilled the idea of S.P.E.W in Hermione's head. Frowning even further towards the elf at its appearance, Hermione managed to miss the filthy look Pansy had shot towards the creature before she had shoved it aside, allowing it to fall in a heap beside her on the stone floor.

_"Eugh.. How many times do I have to warn you about getting so close?! Vile little beast.." _Pansy muttered with an aggravated sigh, shaking her head and brushing off the shoulder that the elf had come into contact with with a slight wrinkling of her nose.

Hermione frowned, her mouth opening to utter some form of reprimand towards the other girl but soon deciding against it. She had to keep things as much on her terms as she could; and angering Parkinson when she was in such a helpless position would do her no good whatsoever. She would just have to go along with things for now, and break free of such a grasp when she was able to.

As the elf righted itself, getting to its feet with a typically saddened expression, it soon rounded up behind Pansy and hung its head as if awaiting orders; remaining silent as Pansy turned her attention back towards Hermione. There was a sudden swish of Pansy's wrist and the ropes that had previously been binding Hermione's wrists suddenly came loose, falling to the ground before disappearing as if they had never even been there to begin with. Pansy smiled, extending a hand towards the girl with an expectant look. _"Give me your hand, Granger."_

_"Why should I--"_

Pansy sighed, her tone becoming slowly more annoyed. _"I have little time to go over my reasoning again. Just give me your hand before I lop it off.."_

Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes for good measure and slowly stretching her hand forward. Pansy instantly grasped it, entwining the two's fingers before waving her other, wand bearing, hand over her shoulder to summon the elf forward; the grin on her lips falling nothing short of entirely wicked.

_"Tell me, Granger.. How do you feel about unbreakable vows?"_

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**AN: Muah ha! My Beta not only called me a COW in fabulous bold capitals once she'd read this, but told me that she had not expected the events to transpire and that she 'seriously fucking loved it'; therefore it is postable in my mind lol!**

**Yes, another cliffhanger ending, and yes there is _far _more to come and I'm only just realising how very much - with nails being chewed off in the process - there is to get into.. But seeing as my head is back in the realm of the fic; hopefully it'll come sooner rather than later ;)**

**Many thanks to the very few reviewers (3 reviews out of some, 200-300 hits... seriously guys; you fucking slackers :P lol), the feedback is fabulous and keeps me going - although if anyone could be a little more specific in their responses, that'd be wonderful.. lol. WHY did you like it? WHY did you hate it? etc. etc... I'm really out of my element writing this sort of fic and I'd love some constructive criticism if you have any to offer. Seriously, please do let me know if there's anything wrong/anything right/anything worth commenting on.. So on and so forth.**

**Feedback is Love - Hit me up - ;)**


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